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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28835958">Dark Souls 1 Oneshots</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doom1713/pseuds/Doom1713'>Doom1713</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls I</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Everyone in the first chapter is a player character, Gen, I mad a fic about ds1 pvp because why not, More relationships/characters to come</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:35:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,853</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28835958</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doom1713/pseuds/Doom1713</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of oneshots from Ds1 universe. No specific order to any of these.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chosen Undead &amp; Chosen Undead</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dark Souls 1 Oneshots</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I got into ds1 pvp a few months back, and I wanted to write about it! I know that there’s mixed feelings about how ds1 pvp works, so I tried to keep everything as neutral as possible.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Thank you for the assistance.”</p><p> </p><p>     The golden phantom of a woman clad in black leather armor and wielding a staff simply nodded before fading away, her duty fulfilled. Now that she was gone, Simon turned his attention to more important matters.</p><p> </p><p>     “Disgusting.”</p><p> </p><p>     Sludge and blood covered his armor. He had expected an interesting fight with the legend that was Artorias, but he had not planned for the wolf knight to use such disgusting means of fending off an attacker. His once gleaming silver armor was now a drab grey, with patches of dark red dotting his chest and hands.</p><p> </p><p>     Simon could see an unplanned trip to Andre is his future. Leaving his armor in its current state would see the metal plates begin to rust within a few hours. After that, he’d stop at the lake where the now dead hydra once presided to wash up. Hopefully there was a bonfire nearby. </p><p> </p><p>     The Undead was pleasantly surprised when he saw a bonfire at the other end of a small open area, right outside of the coliseum. Not wanting to waste any time, he hurried forward and attempted to light the mound of ash and bones. </p><p> </p><p>     But, for some strange reason, no flames flickered to life as they usually would. The bonfire was lifeless. Simon was pondering what could possibly be causing such a phenomenon when he heard the sound of a phantom being summoned into his world.</p><p> </p><p>     Simon spun around and was met with an invading red spirit standing on the raised section of the stone courtyard. It was a woman, dressed in tattered red robes and a tall purple hat, resembling the hat of the witch that had assisted him in killing the giant butterfly in the forest. She held a large sword in her right hand, its blade a translucent green color. In her left, a curious golden catalyst with crystals covering the top half. </p><p> </p><p>     The two exchanged no words, even as Simon approached her. He knew that sorcerers were deadly, but they often sacrificed physical fortitude for their power. It wouldn’t be an easy fight, but he was confident. </p><p> </p><p>     His halberd was just as dangerous as any sorcery, and he knew that he only needed one opening to win. And he had a shield that he had stripped off of the corpse of the knight who had freed him from his cell. It had excellent magical absorption, so Simon could use it to give him some breathing room if necessary.</p><p> </p><p>     The warriors bowed to one another. The sorceress then raised her staff above her head. He heard a quiet incantation, dark energy gathering as she prepared a spell. </p><p> </p><p>     Simon had always been a generous person, but if he let her finish casting whatever spell she was planning to use, it would surely mean his demise. Rushing forward, he jabbed with the spearhead of his weapon, aiming for her heart. </p><p> </p><p>    The etched metal pierced her robes, traveling through her heart and jutting out of the sorceress’s back. Simon heard a squeak as he looked into her eyes. They were silver like his, tears forming in the corners as she collapsed. </p><p> </p><p>    Simon turned away as her phantom faded. Even if she had forced herself into his world, he still felt bad. Undead already went through enough pain and death. It didn’t feel right adding a death to another’s conscience. But it wasn’t like he had a choice. She would have killed him anyways, even if he had refused to fight. </p><p> </p><p>     The sound of another invader entering his world caught his attention. Just his luck, he supposed. Sighing, he turned around to meet his foe.</p><p> </p><p>     It wasn’t entirely clear to Simon as what the gender of the person was. Their face was hidden behind a large metal mask. It had a downturned mouth and eyes that squinted as if the mask was in pain. Two small horn-shaped protrusions stuck out at the top. It appeared to be one of the masks from the strange necromancer that Simon had fought in the catacombs.</p><p> </p><p>     It soon became apparent that his invader was female. They wore a chain shirt that made their...assets quite obvious. He tried to avert his eyes towards the ground but quickly determined that doing so was possibly worse for his dignity. Her legs were bare, save for a few visible scraps of cloth that were barely hanging onto one another. Her gauntlets were brassy in color, somewhat similar to the sentinels in Anor Londo.</p><p> </p><p>      She had a claymore over her right shoulder, using both hands to better manage the weight and to add extra power to her strikes. She had flipped around the area a few times, seemingly trying to avoid something that only she could see. Simon had heard of the invading red spirits of the past that could flip in even the heaviest armor, but it seemed that art had been long forgotten. </p><p> </p><p>     The woman stopped her acrobatics for a few seconds, her back turned. He saw her slip a gauntlet off, pulling a ring off of her finger in the process. She reached for a small pouch on her waist, depositing the ring and pulling a green weed and a small grey ring out. She placed the ring onto her index finger and returned her gauntlet to its home before lifting the bottom of her mask up and seemingly placing the green weed into her mouth. The entire process took only a few moments, the movements obviously having been practiced. </p><p> </p><p>     Simon began to worry. This woman was obviously no stranger to this type of combat, unlike himself. Amongst the rumors he had heard, tales of barbaric invaders had been the scariest. They held no quarter, no mercy was ever shown. Rather than honor, they played dirty, using everything they could in order to win. Sometimes, groups of these trespassers would come together and play blood sports, killing each other over and over in an attempt to find the best killer.</p><p> </p><p>     “Can I have your name?”, Simon called. He knew it was likely a futile gesture, but if he showed kindness, maybe he would receive some in return.</p><p> </p><p>     But, as expected, the woman remained stoic. She would not be thrown from her mission. This man would meet his end, or she would die in the attempt. </p><p> </p><p>     “Alright then…..”, Simon huffed. He had some golden resin he could smear onto the head of his halberd in order to boost its damage, but the woman had already begun to move forward. The time he would spend doing so would leave him totally exposed.</p><p> </p><p>     As the two began to circle each other, Simon began to appreciate the grace and awareness of his opponent. Her feet, despite being bare, moved quickly across the stone flags, stepping in front of one another in a way that would make him fall flat on his face if he attempted such motions. It was a dance, almost. And one this woman was obviously accustomed to.</p><p> </p><p>     She was quick to meet any approach he made, forcing him to move back in fear of what she might have been capable of. Her claymore was heavy enough to crease his armor at the least. One good hit could send him reeling.</p><p> </p><p>     She didn’t only try to meet his own approaches, but also made aggressive actions herself. Using the momentum of a sprint, she would spin her sword around her with a surprising amount of force. She could also follow up a roll with a quick thrust, which nearly caught Simon a few times. In all likelihood, if he hadn't had a shield, the fight would have been over within a minute.</p><p> </p><p>     Eventually, Simon made a mistake. The woman had begun to approach, and rather than back away, he had decided to make a thrust into her stomach. It might not kill her, but it would at least slow her down, right?</p><p> </p><p>     Simon, however, had underestimated the pain tolerance, awareness, and the swiftness of his opponent. As he began to jab forward, the woman turned her torso slightly. The tip of the spearhead ripped into her right side, tearing the chain away and pulling a sizable chunk of flesh with it. But she didn’t stop. She didn’t even flinch.</p><p> </p><p>     As he tried to recover from his failed attack, she spun around to his back. With practiced speed and force, she shoved her claymore through Simon’s back. The blade tore through metal, flesh, and bone as it penetrated through and pierced his chestplate. </p><p> </p><p>     She shoved Simon to the ground, his soon-to-be corpse sliding off of her blade. Indescribable agony radiated out from the hole in his body. He was alive, but only just. He didn’t even have the strength to reach for his estus flask, much less rise. So on the cold stone he remained. </p><p> </p><p>     The woman got onto her knees next to him. Her own wound was bleeding heavily, but she wasn’t in danger of death yet. The silent, emotionless mask stared at his face, a haunting image that burned itself into his mind as his vision tunneled. </p><p> </p><p>     “Belle.”</p><p> </p><p>     Simon could barely speak, but his face must have shown his confusion well enough, as the woman continued.</p><p> </p><p>     “That’s my name. You asked for my name earlier.”</p><p> </p><p>     Her voice wasn’t soft like the women who’s company he had enjoyed before becoming Undead. Rather, her voice was rather harsh, unfit for a “proper” lady. Her voice spoke of many battles, both won and lost. </p><p> </p><p>     “Can...can I see your face?”, he said, coughing up blood before continuing. “I make it my obligation to...to know the face of my better.”</p><p> </p><p>     “It won’t matter, you’ll see me again. That is, if you decide to become human in this place again.” Her voice softened a bit. “But I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. This mask can get stuffy after a while.”</p><p> </p><p>     She reached up, brass gauntlets grasping the black fabric surrounding her head and gently lifting the mask off of her head. Her face was rather plain in structure, a small scar underneath her left eye being the only anomaly. </p><p> </p><p>     But her eyes...they were a deep purple, like the first hints of the dawn sky. Her hair, the same color as her eyes, was braided down the side of her head. </p><p> </p><p>     “Thank you...now let me die in peace, please.”</p><p> </p><p>     “I don’t have time to wait for you to bleed out. I don’t leave until you’re dead.”, Belle said, placing the mask back onto her head. “I think I’ll help you out, just this once.”</p><p> </p><p>     Grabbing her claymore, she stood above him. She began to lift the sword over her head, executioner style, before halting.</p><p> </p><p>     “If you want to learn to compete with me and the rest of my fellow invaders, go to the bonfire in the Undead Burg as soon as you come back. Place your red sign on the small wooden bridge. I will be waiting.”</p><p> </p><p>     Before Simon could ask any questions, Belle brought her sword down on his neck. His head rolled down the steps as Belle turned away.</p><p> </p><p>     “I wonder if Vorona has his gravelord sign down again. Might have to pay him a visit later”. Belle smiled as she faded out, just as she had so many times before.</p><p> </p><p>—————————————————————-</p><p> </p><p>     Simon felt like an idiot. Here he was, placing his red sign down in an area he had bested so long ago. It had been several minutes, and he was beginning to think that Belle had tricked him. Why would he have been told to place his sign in such an uninteresting and simple area?</p><p> </p><p>     As soon as he began contemplating erasing his sign, he felt the familiar sensation of his phantom being called to another world. Even if he had helped so many as a golden Warrior of Sunlight, the feeling was still surreal. After a few moments, his vision faded for several seconds. </p><p> </p><p>     When it returned, he was standing on the bridge where he had placed his sign. His vision had a slight reddish tint, effects of being a red phantom, he surmised. It was slightly disorienting, as he hadn’t invaded or been summoned through his red sign before.</p><p> </p><p>     “I thought you had turned my offer down. Your sign didn’t appear for so long.”</p><p> </p><p>     Simon turned towards the speaker. It was Belle.</p><p> </p><p>     “I thought you had tricked me.”, he said. “I’d always been taught to never trust invaders like you.”</p><p> </p><p>     Ignoring his comment, Belle continued.</p><p> </p><p>     “I never did get your name, by the way.”</p><p> </p><p>     “Oh, my name is Simon.”</p><p> </p><p>     “Well Simon, I’m glad you took me up on my offer. You’re very obviously fresh to this sort of thing. It’s a rare occurrence, finding someone who was as oblivious to any kind of fighting in Oolacile as you are. That’s why I snapped you up, before other, less informed people filled your mind with nonsense.”</p><p> </p><p>     Nodding, Simon finally noticed the other red phantom behind Belle, as well as two other phantoms that were fighting in the square arena below them. </p><p> </p><p>     “Who are they? Your friends, I assume?”</p><p> </p><p>     Belle nodded. “Of course. The two fighting down there are Pain And Seapie. Those aren’t their real names, but to me, they might as well be. Pain is the one with the really big club and the Havel armor. Seapie has the Catarina chestpiece and the claymore.”</p><p> </p><p>     As Simon watched, Seapie made a strange movement. He jumped backwards…. but with his back facing Pain?</p><p> </p><p>     “Why would he…”</p><p> </p><p>     “Just watch.”</p><p> </p><p>     Seapie then quickly turned back toward Pain, swinging his sword out in front of him. It made contact with Pain, but the blow simply glanced off of his armor. Pain then moved to Seapie’s back, slamming his comically large club into Seapie’s back in two quick motions.</p><p> </p><p>     The fight continued and ended with Seapie being victorious. Belle explained that Seapie had swapped to a ring that greatly boosted his damage mid-fight (which sounded damn near impossible to Simon) which allowed him to make up so much ground.</p><p> </p><p>     “Oh, where are my manners. I forgot to introduce you to Marion.”, Belle said, gesturing to the phantom behind her. Marion wore the armor of a bandit, and had a halberd just like Simons. </p><p> </p><p>     “Marion is one of the best combatants in this realm. You could learn a lot from them. But I will warn you. At this point, you will get annihilated by anyone here. Don’t let that discourage you though. It’s something we all went through when we started doing this.”</p><p> </p><p>     “Sounds….interesting.”, Simon said. His voice was full of nervous energy, and his halberd suddenly felt very heavy in his hands.</p><p> </p><p>     “Hey, Seapie! I’m gonna fight Simon for a bit, he’s new!”</p><p> </p><p>     “Sounds good. Just go easy on him, Doom. Don’t need you scaring him away.”</p><p> </p><p>     Belle laughed. “He already knows what I’m all about. Beheaded him in township today.”</p><p> </p><p>     “Harsh. Well I have to leave anyway.” </p><p> </p><p>     Seapie then proceeded to jump to his death. He didn’t even hesitate, although he wouldn’t really lose anything. Still, the sight was unsettling. Also, Seapie had called Belle “Doom”. Had this woman lied to him about her name?</p><p> </p><p>     Belle, if that was her name, was already down in the square arena. She beckoned for him to follow, which he obliged. </p><p> </p><p>     Just like when they had met before, Belle pulled a small green weed out of a pouch on her waist and slipped it under her mask. </p><p> </p><p>     Gripping his halberd, Simon called out.</p><p> </p><p>     “Why do you eat those weeds before a fight? And why is everyone wearing the same mask as you? Also, why did Seapie call you ‘Doom’?”</p><p> </p><p>     Huffing, Belle spoke. </p><p> </p><p>     “I’ll explain the mask and the herb later. Once I get into a fighting mindset, I want to get moving as fast as possible. As for the name, Doom is my alias. Just like Pain and Marion have theirs, I have mine. They all know my real name, but I was Doom when they were getting to know me, so that’s what they call me. Now shut up and fight.”</p><p> </p><p>     Simon did as he was told, circling Doom...no, Belle. Belle was her proper name and he would use it. Belle was as fluid as ever, constantly moving around. But she wasn’t as aggressive in her approaches as she had been before. Now she was staying back, letting him approach.</p><p> </p><p>     Deciding to take the initiative, Simon rolled forward to close the distance quickly in order to strike. However, as soon as he started to roll, he heard Belle shout “Really?!”</p><p> </p><p>     Before he knew it, Belle was behind him, shoving her claymore into his back once again. Just like their previous fight, Simon was on the ground, unable to move.</p><p> </p><p>     Belle stood over him, shaking her head. She pulled a dagger out from….somewhere and crouched next to him.</p><p> </p><p>     “First rule of fighting literally anyone.”, she said as she pressed the dagger against his throat. “Never roll forward toward your opponent.”</p><p> </p><p>     “Noted.” He said, a small chuckle turning into bloody coughs.</p><p> </p><p>     Belle smiled. “I have a feeling you’ll fit right in.”</p><p> </p><p>     She drew the dagger hard against his throat, severing arteries, and Simon’s vision went black</p>
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